Nothing Left to Say
by Nauthiz
Summary: The battle is over and the war is won, but Harry can't see past all the losses. Oneshot.


**Title:** Nothing Left to Say  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Nothing big, minor use of language is about it.  
**Summary:** The battle is over and the war is won, but Harry can't see past all the losses.  
**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Harry Potter. I really do, but unfortunately I'm really not talented enough for that. Harry Potter is the creation and property of JK Rowling. It was her wonderful imagination that gave us the stories we all love. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AN: This is the first fanfic I've actually decided to share with anyone, so please go easy on me. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, especially those with constructive criticism. Hope you enjoy.  
- Nauthiz.

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'This isn't how I saw it ending. This isn't what I wanted. This isn't what they deserved.'_

Harry's thoughts raced a mile a minute through his mind, no reprieve, no silence.

_'No rest for the wicked'_, his mind kindly supplied, and he couldn't choke back the bitter laugh.

The avada kedavra eyed boy saviour drew himself from guilty thoughts and gathered the strength to survey the blood stained, makeshift battlefield before him. Hogwarts, for once, was anything but resplendent as the backdrop to the once glorious grounds. The usual imposing grandeur of the homely castle was gone, and in its place the stone walls seemed harsh and foreboding. His sanctuary, his home had been turned into a graveyard. When the veiled darkness of the night sky gave way to the dawn, families would come to claim their loved ones. Survivors would attempt to rid the castle walls and grounds of the tarnish of blood but Hogwarts would always feel tainted whilst the castle remained empty and the world remembered.

Harry turned slightly as he felt the presence of another body behind him and a warm and familiar hand captured his shoulder in a fierce grasp. "How..." Harry began, but found himself unable to voice the question. He wasn't sure he could take the answer. The unidentified corpses strewn across the field weighed heavy on his conscience, and he wasn't sure he could hold up under the weight of more deaths too. He caught Ron's eyes in silent plea, and softly let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as his red-headed best friend nodded.

"'Charlie's in the hospital wing. He got a bad graze from a cutting curse but Pomfrey is fixing him up okay. Fred and George are with Ginny, she's a bit shaken but Bill came out worst, he's at St. Mungos for nerve damage. Cruciatus, y'know?" Ron's voice was weak, as though he'd been on the edge of tears for some time, and it tore Harry apart to hear his friend speak so casually of the torturing curse. He had been violently jaded by the war, they both had.

"Mione's fine too, she's helping out in the hospital wing." Harry told him, adding another name to the list of survivors. He knew Ron would already know where Hermione was, but it did neither of them any harm to remind each other of the lucky ones.

He glanced over at his raven haired friend whose eyes were once again fixed on the reminder of the brutal war fought only a few hours before. "It's over, mate, _over_. The bastard's gone now." Harry's eyes flickered with some uncaught emotion, though he gave no other indication that he had heard. "The wars finished, and we made it. Thanks to you." His tone was of genuine gratitude but Harry froze at the words, his shoulders visibly tensing.

"And what about the ones who didn't make it?" He asked softly, shaking his head. "No, don't thank me. If I had been quicker, or-" He cut himself off, jaw clenching as he fought back the almost overwhelming emotions.

"Harry, mate..." Ron protested, "You ended the war, and we got through with more survivors than we ever dared to imagine. The ones that died, they aren't on your shoulders. No one blames you."

Harry let out a choked breath and raked his bloodstained hands through his mop of raven hair. "They don't need to Ron, I blame myself..."He trailed off and let his gaze drift back to the grounds. Ron clapped him gently on the shoulder, watching their saviour with sad eyes. "C'mon Harry. Say something?"

"Just look at them all, Ron. _They're gone_...there's nothing left to say."


End file.
